From The Great Beyond
by Kalira69
Summary: Sakumo and Dai may both have left, but they have never stopped watching over their children. (Written for KakaGai Week, Day 7)


Written for KakaGai Week, Day 7: Heartache.

Decided to make it easy on myself today by . . . featuring characters I've never written before, nor even seen yet in canon. Well done.

* * *

Gai sighed, folding his arms behind himself and tucking his hands into the back of his hitai-ate as he rocked on his heels. He kept looking up, mouth twisting into a half sorrowful expression.

"Do you regret it?"

Dai startled at the soft-voiced question, lifting his gaze from his son on the ground below.

Sakumo sauntered over and folded his legs, settling near Dai. "Introducing them." He tilted his head, pointing at Gai with his chin and smiling ruefully. "Encouraging him to befriend my son."

Dai smiled at him. "No." He looked back down at Gai, who was still watching the window through which Kakashi had disappeared some time before. "No I do not. Do you?" he asked.

Sakumo looked surprised. "No. I regret . . . many things, in regards to my son, but not this. I still think that pushing him to befriend Gai-kun is one of the best things I did for him." He swallowed, then smiled crookedly. "Even if he does not. It has not . . . brought much to Gai-kun, though, has it?"

"A measure to challenge himself against." Dai said. "And an equal."

"Not that he exactly seems willing to admit it." Sakumo said, lips pursing. "Even as Gai-kun closes the difference between them."

"Yet he competes in Gai's challenges, whatever he says." Dai pointed out with a smile. "He _sees_ Gai," the smile softened slightly, his eyes going sad, "so few people do, since I left him. Even his teammates. He may have to work for Kakashi-kun's attention, but when he has it, it is . . . honest."

Below them Gai sighed, finally turning and beginning to walk away, through the deep shadows the night threw over the village.

"Do you think they will ever really come together?" Sakumo asked, and Dai grinned at him. "I'd hoped they would be friends, but this is. . ."

"They are both very stubborn, but I have faith in the power of their youth!" Dai proclaimed.

"I don't remember the last time my son seemed, ah, youthful." Sakumo observed, clearing his throat.

Dai patted his back firmly. "Have faith." he said. Then he nudged Sakumo, directing his attention to the window of the building opposite the one they stood on, the one Gai had been so reluctant to walk away from.

A flash of silvery white was visible just inside it as Kakashi looked down at the street, watching Gai leave, then snapped his curtains closed.

"They are _both_ very stubborn," Dai said again, more quietly, "but I believe especially now, they . . . need each other."

Sakumo nodded, eyes fixed on the curtain hiding away any view he might have stolen of his son's tiny apartment.

* * *

"Do you regret it?"

Sakumo twitched, glancing over his shoulder as Dai approached, gesturing down to where their children rested. Sakumo smiled and shook his head. "No, of course not."

He looked back down from the tree in which he had found a perch as Dai moved up to crouch near his left shoulder.

It was a well-hidden spot, one that seemingly saw very little traffic from the nearby village, but currently it hosted two nin who had run, fought, bled, and shouted over much of the surrounding terrain.

In this moment, this secret place, they were quiet, however.

Gai's fingers twitched in his sleep, resting over the band of his hitai-ate, and Kakashi's hand slid down his forearm to wrap more snugly around his wrist. Kakashi wasn't awake either, to all appearances, pressed snugly against Gai's side, head tucked on his broad shoulder, snoring faintly against his throat.

"It seems likely that your son will be the end of your clan." Dai said, quietly but not delicately.

Sakumo snorted. "Let it be the end of our clan." he said almost harshly. "Perhaps it should have ended already. Besides," he looked up at Dai for a moment, "it has been a long time since I thought there was any chance Kakashi would have a child to carry on our name and legacy in any case. I am just happy he has found someone who makes him _happy_. I had all but lost hope of that, as well."

Below, in the little dell hidden away by the curve of a stream rushing away from a small waterfall, Kakashi stirred, eye narrowing as he scanned his surroundings. Evidently finding nothing, he stretched languidly and snuggled closer to Gai, hooking one slender leg between his and nuzzling against his throat.

"Your clan, as well." Sakumo murmured.

Dai chuckled. "We have not quite the illustrious history of yours to worry about dying out." he said, and smiled down at the pair. "My son has passed on my legacy to another, has made it his own as his student is now making it his own. I am more than pleased with that. He is happy."

"They are." Sakumo said, voice soft with relief. They had watched over their children for so long, through so many hardships and struggles, and it had seemed for a long time even after they had truly become friends that neither of them would ever find _peace_.

"I am very glad that I pushed them together that day." Sakumo said, smiling and folding his arms across his upraised knee. "And that you encouraged Gai never to give up on Kakashi." he added ruefully.

"He never needed very much encouraging where Kakashi was involved," Dai said, patting Sakumo's shoulder, "but . . . so am I."


End file.
